Responsible
by SplishySplash
Summary: After everything happens with Epps, Brennan thinks about the last few cases, and draws some conclusions. CBPC February's Challenge.


**Title: Responsible**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, fox is the brain child. Post Man in the Cell, Girl in the Gator, Man on Death Row. No offence if I offend anyone. This is my entry for Cullen's Bullpen Challenge. It's a little sad, I was in a very bad mood when I wrote this. Even though I have hand a rough couple of days, I like how this story went. It's un-beta'd so if you notice anything, let me know.**

**Challenge: "Desire" – A character(s) desire for another person, place or thing. This must be told from the character's thoughts, but can have outside dialogue.  
**

**I hope it counts.**

**Enjoy**

I sat at the lab, waiting. Everyone had gone home hours ago, but I didn't really have a reason to leave. I wander aimlessly until I make it into my office and sat down on the couch with an unceremonious thud. The case, to tell you the truth was a case from hell, not that there really is a hell.

Hell, Wisconsin. Never been there, never want to go there.

The case started out like any other, Booth and I walking out of the diner. He had his cell phone in one ear, making travel arrangements to Florida-hot and glamorous Florida or swampy, sticky Florida was the choice and in the end, turned out to be swampy and sticky Florida. While he was on the phone, there was the persistent ice cream man who wouldn't turn down that music, only asking for Booth to shoot at it. One second he's on the phone, the next his gun is aimed at the cartoon head and three holes are in it, and then he is still talking on the phone, finalizing the travel arrangements.

I looked at him in shock, that was not good. I thought I only thought that, but I guess I verbalized it because he turned to admire his 'work' and a small, smile crept onto his face. I noticed it because I know him well enough to have seen it.

It whirled around to where I was on a plane heading for the Everglades and he was hauled into some shrinks office. I, Dr. Brennan, wasn't scared, I had done cases on my own before. I Temperance Brennan was scared for my partner-the FBI is his life.

The plane landed, the rental car was rented and I began the hour drive down to the scene, unaware of what I was about to take on. I called him.

He kept assuring me that he was alright, and that he just needed to get a psychiatric evaluation form sign. The whole thing with Howard Epps is what caused this.

And in the grand scheme of things it's my fault.

Not only for Booth's mental health, but for Cam almost dying, Zack and Booth almost being blown up. Angela and Hodgins. Parker. I would have never forgiven myself if anything happened to that boy, or anybody for that matter. I am responsible for it all.

I can feel my head start to ache, my eyes flutter closed and my head rests on the back of the couch. Images of Epps falling from the fire escape still fresh in my mind. Booth feels guilty because of that, he tried to pull him up, I tried to reach for him, but my short arms wouldn't allow for it. Epps let his hand slip through Booths hand. That son of a bitch wanted to haunt us after he was dead, he did it on purpose.

This is all psychology. It's such a soft science.

All conjecture.

Back to Florida, the weather was nice for being the middle of January. Hot and sunny. I reached the scene with Booth still on the phone as if he were in the car with me. Again he assured me that this Agent Sullivan was a nice guy and knew what he was doing.

He introduces himself as 'Sully' and then goes on about Eugene, and how the alligator swallowing a victim, but alligators don't go after live people, they leave them underwater for a while so they can tenderize, so narrows it down that she was already dead. He starts off telling orders, pointing to the sheriff telling him to comb the bottom for remains, that he was going to Ft. Lauderdale to check missing persons and that I was to start cutting. I told him no, and he simply looked at me and questioned my job.

I look at him like he was crazy. Remains that have been in the water that long are way too sensitive to be done outside my lab. I tell him that I wanted 'Eugene' to be sent back to the Jeffersonian. I even offer to handle shipping it. He rolled his eyes and started talking about buying a boat.

Mentally I started making a list comparing my partner to this Agent 'Sully'. Booth helps, I accidently said that out loud. His response was that Booth can't relax. Smart Ass.

Alright, so I was curious and I reached into the gator's mouth, pulling out a metal locket. That piqued his curiosity alright, I turned my back to him and glared. He had a boat to buy, not worry about the locket in my hand.

So Eugene and I were sent packing to Washington, D.C. and I began to investigate the murder.

The day turns into a couple of days and it turns out to be a girl named Judy Dowd, she got mixed up in a 'girls gone wild' internet site. Girls getting drunk showing off their chests for the camera. Someone from the site was obviously the last to see Judy Dowd alive, and we chased every lead, from Judy and the bouncer to Judy and Monte. Interrogating everyone, like usual.

Judy and Monte turned to be the right path.

Well Sully and I got on to the bus, comes to find out that he is a federal agent, pilot, scuba diver, emergency medical technician and is an inspiring chef, and who knows what else, I'll add an astronaut and a barber to it. I can't tell if he is lying and that is what making me mad. He does know what a scapula is though. One point for Sully, still behind my partner though.

I missed my partner, he even though he didn't know what the scapula is, he is real to me.

Turning point in the case was when Angela called me. I can't blame her for what she did only because she is my best friend, but it did end up in Monte being killed, anyone else I would probably be really pissed.

We found Monte dead and Judy Dowd's father went to prison for that, poor man I mean. He lost his wife some time ago and then his only daughter. The feeling that the case was over wasn't there.

Though it narrowed down the suspect list. I've been thinking more and more like Booth, Scully really didn't get my input and put it to use. The usual happened, we narrowed the weapon, which turned to be a shifting column.

Judy Dowd was penetrated with the shifting column and thrown to the gator's. It was like a scene from a movie, if it wasn't already, it should be. Not that I watch movies or anything.

The weapon in question belonged to a truck, at which belonged to a certain Isaac Horn. The preacher that followed the "Hotty Student Body" bus from stop to stop, preaching abstinence and that they were going to hell if they don't change their ways. The irony of the situation was that he was thrown out of the church for making passes at young girls, people like that make me cringe. I know I'm not the only one.

Ok so the case wasn't so bad, it was rather an open-close kind of case. We, or should I say I, knew that Monte solicited girls for sex, he was stupid enough to leave her on the side of the highway TO die, but Isaac was always the questionable one, showing up in random places. Booth would have closed the case sooner, probably fast enough that Monte wouldn't have been killed.

That was wishful thinking, if I've ever thought about it.

What can I say, I miss my partner.

To anyone else, Dr. Temperance Brennan didn't miss anybody, she was strong willed and independent. But 'Bones' missed her partner, and since becoming Bones she had become more and more dependent on a certain brown eyed FBI agent, who annoyed her, challenged her and made her laugh.

What hit me like a ton of cinder blocks was when Sully asked me on a date. Oh wait, Booth said it was bricks, not cinder blocks. I sigh again. Sully wasn't a bad guy, really he wasn't. He tried to be everything, yet he wasn't as passionate about his work like Booth was.

Booth, he is passionate about the job, about the people who need his help. People to lay to rest. Penance to pay. Each person he killed, he swore he'd get back. Howard Epps was number fifty, in his mind.

Number fifty was my fault. I was responsible for that.

Now the tears were falling and I come to the conclusion that I am weak. I was crying because I was responsible for this mess, for leading Sully on, for Angela talking to Judy Dowd's father, for Zack touching the body, for Cam nearly dying, for Hodgins and Angela both, Parker, Caroline Epps. I could make the list longer, but I try to close my eyes to forget the past months had ever happened. Weak, I let myself get drawn emotionally and look where it has got me: people around me hurting.

I lay my head on my arm, closing my eyes tighter, willing the tears to stop and willing my brain to rest. At this point I haven't seen my partner in three days, and maybe if I had the gun I would have shot the clown.

The sound of familiar footsteps near my office, his normal two gate beat stopped at the glass door. I didn't dare to look up, because if I did, he would know I was crying. He stopped at the door to watch, to see if I'm awake. My shoulders start to shake, the soft tears turn into sobs.

With two large steps he was in front of me and kneeled on the floor. "Bones?" He asked softly, pulling my hand away from my head, to see my red eyes.

We make eye contact and without words I sit up and wrap my arms around his shoulders. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." I cry into his shoulder. He rubs my back comfortingly, not saying anything at first.

"What are you sorry for, Temperance?" He asked, tightening his grip around my waist.

"Everything." I whisper, muffled by his jacket. "This is my fault."

I don't know if he heard me, I rather that he didn't. I know we shouldn't be like this, him crouching in front of me with his arms around me and I am trying to control my sobbing. There is now a line, remember with Howard Epps, he drew it in the sand. Again, I am responsible for that line.

He pulled back a little and his right hand moved from my waist to my cheek, bringing my gaze from his bright colored tie to his eyes. My eyes close, I was scared. Not of him, but of the line. He set the boundary, I had to follow them.

"Temperance, open your eyes." He said, ordering me to comply. If it were to be any other situation, I would have argued with him. I shook my head and kept my eyes closed. "Temperance." His voice drops in pitch, causing my eyes to open, his brown eyes showed something that I have never seen before and I can't place a name on it. "Now tell me what you are talking about." His voice is soft.

"I am responsible for all this mess. Its all my fault." I cry out, I couldn't control my voice. I hate losing control, he knew that. Hell the whole world knew that.

"What is your fault?" He persisted, his eyes not breaking contact with mine. This is why he is so damn good with people, he shows that he cares.

"You shooting the clown, your therapy. Zack, Angela and Hodgins, Cam nearly dying." I cried and he said nothing. "Your son, if anything happened to that boy. . ."

"But nothing did happen, Bones." He said with emotion in his voice, he sounded almost shocked. "I thank God every day that nothing happened. None of this is your fault, Howard Epps caused this."

"And he said everything that happens is my fault, Booth." I said, finally getting control of my voice. The words of the madman still ringing in my ears, I can't sleep without hearing it usually ending with a dream of me in a graveyard, standing in front of the row of her 'family.'

"No, Temperance." He said, his hand now cupping my neck and he rested his forehead on mine. "This is what he wanted you to think, if anything was to happened to him, he wanted his impression to stay behind."

"He was successful." I whispered, the flood gates slowly closing.

"Yes he was. Howard Epps was the reason I shot that clown, Bones. I was guilty for letting him go." He said his forehead still on mine.

"But, he slipped Booth." I cried.

"I know that. I just needed to convince myself of that." He said softly, his thumb rubbing circles just below my ear. My eyes flutter closed, relishing his touch. I reminded myself to keep breathing, in and out, in and out. "I think you need to be convinced also."

"How?" I asked curiously, the tears had stopped, but my cheeks were still wet. I opened my eyes, his brown eyes still shining with the unfamiliar emotion. Booth didn't say anything, he didn't have to.

He pressed his lips to mine

Almost hesitantly at first, I respond slowly. His other hand left my waist and mirrored the other hand at my neck as his tongue met at my lips waiting for entrance and I allow, almost greedily. Its as if I can feel the guilt leaving, almost.

Booth ended the kiss. "Did that work?" He asked with his charm smile.

"Almost." I answer, a slow smile forms at my now empty lips and I finally narrow down the look in his eyes. Desire.


End file.
